Good Morning Isengard!
by Vaya
Summary: The morning of the Ent attack, all Saruman wants is peace, and his coffee.
1. Default Chapter

At about 8am, Rohan Standard time, Saruman woke up and began his morning ritual. A short trip to the bathroom, a light breakfast and a cup of coffee while reading his paper; Saruman just wasn't up to proper wizarding without these things.  
  
He turned the local section, which had a general alert about a ridiculously large orcish army marching to Helm's Deep. Saruman chuckled, excellent, soon the kingdom would be his, and in about a week Sauron would own the world.  
  
He was interrupted in his musings of a joint-leadership venture, when Wormtongue came in, looking very worried. Saruman scowled, he was still reading damn it, and decided that whatever it was could wait.  
  
"Sir?" the little worm said in a very small and terrified voice. No clue there.  
  
"Go away," said Saruman, who turned the page to find a story about how Gandalf the White was behind the, "brilliant strategy, which could save them all". Saruman grunted; he knew that Gandalf was just winging it, he always was.  
  
"Sir?" Wormtongue said with even more urgency and a fearful glance out the window.  
  
"Go. Away." He said in his best menacing voice, and chuckled when he saw an ad in the classified, very subtly inquiring about a small hobbit with a gold ring.  
  
"Sir it's very urgent."  
  
Saruman slapped down his paper and pointed a menacing finger at Grima, "I'll tell you what is urgent and worth worrying about, interrupting my morning coffee and if you keep it up I'll reduce you to a pile of ash," and he went back to his paper.  
  
"Fine," Grima said getting up, "I just thought you'd want to know about the trees that's all," and he stalked out.  
  
Saruman grunted and went back to his paper, which he read in peace, despite the constant thumping outside. Stupid orcs, can't they work silently? Finally he finished, folded up his paper, and got up to go to the front window and look down at his minions, menacingly.  
  
As he passed by the window, something odd caught his attention. There were several large trees outside. He had taken down all the trees though, and so it was not only odd that they should be out there, but down right impossible.  
  
And then he noticed that they weren't just standing there but moving about.  
  
"Grima," he said, sipping his coffee, "what's going on?"  
  
"Well, my lord, I tried to tell you that the trees are attacking, but you're morning ritual was just far too important to interrupt so I decided to wait."  
  
Saruman threw all his menace into a glare and then threw a fireball at Grima, "Never speak like that to me again," and went out onto the balcony. 


	2. MidMorning tea

Saruman looked out over the ecoterrorism taking place in his front yard. Blast and bugger it, he hadn't taken this one into account. There were a couple of dozen of them, trees walking around smashing his orcs, who were hoplessly outclassed.  
  
He couldn't believe it. Never once, did it occur to him that the trees might strike back with a firey vengeance. He just thought they would stand there, maybe take him off their friends list.  
  
A large crash off in the distance caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see his beautiful dam burst apart. The river gushed forth and flooded Isengard, drowning countless minions and ruining his mines.  
  
Saruman scowled as the trees started swimming around and laughing. He didn't have to think too hard as to who was behind this one. There was only one man who talked to trees and hung out with the two hobbits who were now rushing off to the storeroom, probably to get into his stash. All the naturist crap and thrown-togetherness of this attack pointed to one man.  
  
"Gandalf," he said darkly.  
  
Grima came out, wiping some soot off his face.  
  
"Are you sure? Looks like the two little hobbits were behind it."  
  
"He put them up to it, I am sure," he said, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"I thought you said he was always winging it."  
  
"I am wondering," he left it hanging.  
  
Down below, Pippin had come out of the store room with a funny hat and was running around yelling, "I speak for the trees!"  
  
"Who else but Gandalf, possibly that slacker Radagast, is such a nature loving, tree-hugger? No, Gandalf wastes his time with trees, shrubbery and little furry animals."  
  
"Insects," Grima muttered.  
  
"Insects! Hundreds of species of moth! What good are they?! They can't speak, they can't think, they can't opporate heavy machinery! When I reshape this world I'm not going to waste my time on daphodils and birds, and twenty species of slugs. It's going to be machines! Siege engines, automatic weapons!"  
  
"But sir?"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"He has managed to escape you once, and now we cannot get out of Orthanc."  
  
There was a slight "eep" as Saruman threw another fireball at Wormtongue.  
  
"That is a good point," he said once the smoke cleared, "but once my legions of terror are done wiping out the Rohirrim, they will return, and I will have new timber to build and fuel my fires!"  
  
He let out several fantastic peals of his most evil laughter. This was why he became an evil wizard, he loved this kind of delicious irony.  
  
There was a ping coming from his palantir, a message was coming through.  
  
"Get that will you, I am too busy glowering at the trees."  
  
Wormtongue crawled back into the room, and a few minutes came back with a bit of parchment, which Saruman snatched away from him.  
  
"Ah, this will be Lurtz detailing the victory," as he started to read it.  
  
"Dear Sir," it read, "we were doing great, until you're goody-goody friend Gandalf showed up with 500 Rohirrim and a ridiculous amount of trees. Our asses are effectively kicked. Retreating in an undignified manner.  
  
Sincerely, Lurtz."  
  
A few minutes later he was sitting in his study, staring at a random point on the wall, wondering what else the day had in store for him.  
  
Once again, Grima disturbed him.  
  
"Sir?" he squeaked.  
  
Saruman gave him a withering look, "what now?"  
  
"Um, Sauron is on the line, he wants to speak with you, and Theodon is coming up the drive."  
  
Oh bloody hell... 


	3. Brunch

"Saruman! Get down here!" Theoden and his enterage were sitting outside the front door of Orthanc. All the way from Helm's deep, they had ridden, feeling pretty good about themselves. After all, the "invincible" orcish horde had been wiped out in a dazzling, movie-worthy display of heroics and greenery.  
  
Gandalf was coming up the steps, after telling Merry adn Pipping to stay put at their base. He trudged up to the others holding a faintly ridulous hat which he had apprpriated from Pippin, and was muttering something about "blatent cross-geeking."  
  
He stopped when he saw what was on the balcony. A large staff and been tied to it, sticking up and out. Dangling from it's tip was a string, with a terrified Worntongue at the end.  
  
Inside Saruman was trying to stay calm as he gave his progress report to Sauron.  
  
"Well, it is true that we have had some minor setbacks," he was saying, very quickly, "but I am sure that we will have the Rohirrim on their knees begging for mercy, any minute now, I am just waiting for Lurtz's report."  
  
He tried to sound convincing, but his voice was shaking.  
  
Sauron responded in a slow, ponderous voice that he thought made him sound more evil, but really just sounded like he had been a chain smoker all his life.  
  
"Are you sure about that Saruman? Because my spies have told me something quite different."  
  
"Oh? Really?"  
  
"They said something about gardening issues. I didn't get the whole message, they were busy snickering. So I thought I would ask you"  
  
Saruman laughed nervously, "Oh its nothing serious, the trees are here demanding that I stop cutting down the forrests. I said that I am well within my rights, and am about to wipe them out with a good ol fireball."  
  
"Oh, good" Sauron said distractedly, "well, then be about it, I can wait."  
  
Saruman quickly put him on hold, it wasn't a good idea to hang up on one of the most ancient evils around.  
  
Outside, he could hear the King and his company laughing, as they tried to knock Wormtongue down with rotten vegetables.  
  
Saruman took several deep breaths, straightened out his hair and his robes, put on his most pleasent face and went out on the balcony.  
  
"Well hello," he said masking his voice, "what brings you to my humble abode?"  
  
Theoden looked up at with steely eyes, "You know what we're here for, the little matter of you trying to take my throne and kingdom."  
  
"Oh? What makes you think I was involved?"  
  
"They had the white hand of Saruman, the same symbol on your gates."  
  
"No proof," Saruman said with an airy wave of his hand, "they took that symbol to set me up."  
  
The riders of Rohan seemed to soften to this and murmered amongst themselves.  
  
"Also," said Eomer, "there is the matter of that ponce you sent to poisen my uncle, who even know is perching from your balcony."  
  
"Wormtongue misunderstood me, he thought I had said 'Poisen his mind with lies' and what I had said was um, 'Moisten up your pies', see his pies were rather dry."  
  
At this some of the riders laughed, as if that explained everything, and that the whole thing had to be a bad misunderstanding.  
  
Theoden narrowed his eyes, "there is also the problem with your rent."  
  
"Rent!" Saruman squeaked, causing a stir among the riders.  
  
"Yes, you haven't paid it in over a year, and without that revenue, I haven't been able to pay all my riders." Theoden smiled, knowing that he had said the magic words. Behind him, his riders were starting to murmer and then grumble.  
  
Saruman looked about as white as his hair and robes. He realized that he was about to lose the upper hand, "The check was in the mail, I sent it to Wormtongue," he turned to the dangling worm, "what did you do with it?"  
  
Wormtongue gulped as he turned slowly in mid-air, "I never got such a check, m-mylord."  
  
"Also," Theoden said, pressing on, "no where in your lease does it say that you can dig up the front yard like this."  
  
"Well, um, it was a surprise you see, adn um..."  
  
Some of the riders started to chuckle as Saruman was obviously losing his grip.  
  
"And having large groups of orcs is a direct breach of the lease, and so you force me to take Isengard away from you."  
  
"b-But I"  
  
"However, since you had taken it upon yourself to build Orthanc, I guess that is yours, adn in my infinate kindness I am more than willing to let you stay there, until you find other accomodations."  
  
He then gestured to the trees, "I will leave Treebeard and his contigent to see to your every need."  
  
The Riders started to roar with laughter, as Saruman, the white, teh leader of the council, went back into his tower, having been defeated by legal mumbo-jumbo.  
  
He wandered back into the main chamber, where the Palantir was throbbing with light, indicating that he had a message coming in.  
  
"So sorry you had to go, hope everything works out, oh and insidently I've sent one of my Black Riders to check up on you, and see to any need you might have.  
  
Cheers, Sauron"  
  
Saruman picked up the Palantir and hurled it out the window, barely missing Grima's head. He then began to swear loudly and creatively, while the riders outside began to sing about Saruman the Lite.  
  
Grima dangled dangerously as a shock bolt flew dangerously close.  
  
"Please," he said nervously, "don't be so hard on yourself"  
  
The End  
  
The Parody will be continued with Tea Time with Sauron. 


End file.
